Ucciso Dalla Follia
by yintsunami
Summary: Some one is killing the nations left and right, leaving a star on each of them. The thing is, only a nation can kill a nation. It's up to Ludwig, Feli, and Vash, who have appointed themselves as the Nation-police to solve these gruesome crimes.  Violent.
1. Prologe

Ucciso Dalla Follia

Green eyes stared through a narrow crack of light the Jared door would allow. He could feel the knife in his hand, hoping for it to become crimson.

"Bastardo, get your ass in here!"

"Coming Lovi~!"

"Chi-gi! Stupid bastard."

He could see them through the crack now the Spaniard looking happy, bringing his bags in, and the Italian glaring at him. The glare was empty though, he knew this.

"Lovi, I'm going to put away some of this stuff. Okay my little tomato?"

"Fine, but I'm not waiting for you!"

Now was his chance, or he wouldn't get another one for quite sometime. If he wanted to here them scream it was now or never.

"Hello..."

"WHY ARE YOU HERE YOU BASTARD!"

A slice then a scream.

"Lovi, what going on-?"

A smile.

"Oh Dios mi Lovi! ¿Por qué haces esto-!"

Another cut, a slice, a few more screams.

"Fratello, are you home?"

Then he left, leaving his bloody trail behind.


	2. Chapter 1

Italy couldn't hold back a scream. His dear fratello was lying there, completely void of life. Blood decorated the room, splatter on the walls, on his brother. A slit marked skillfully across each of their throats, and blood pouring out of the wounds on their backs. Feliciano could see this with a simple glance, but one thing stood out beyond any of the blood and death.

His brother was holding Antonio's hand, as if his last moments were spent with his lover. Feliciano could feel the tears run down his face and his throat tighten as he ran to the nearest phone.

Ludwig quickly jotted down the current information on the notepad he held. He only knew five things at the moment:

1.) The victims were Lovino Vargas and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, other wise known as the countries of Spain and Southern Italy.

2.) The killer used a blade, slitting each of their throats and making quite a mess out of it.

3.) On each of their backs there was a large star-symbol. Opening the possibility of a cult killing... if the victims were average humans.

4.) The possibility of a cult killing is ruled out, because of lack of other symbols around the room. If this was for a sacrifice they would have kidnapped them, not kill them in their own house.

5.) One of the victims was Feliciano's brother.

"What information do we have?" Vash snatched the booklet away from him, reading over the 5 known things, "Replace 5 with something else."

"What exactly?"

"Only a nation, can kill a nation." Yes, that _was_ important information. Ludwig quickly erased number five, and replaced it. He then put it back in his jacket pocket.

"You should really go comfort Italy. He's lost a brother and a friend today." Ludwig nodded at Vash's suggestion and stepped over the yellow tap.

Feliciano was shaking, and sobbing from just recovering from shock. As soon as he saw Ludwig he flung himself at him, burying his head into the recesses of shirt.

"Fratello... Oh dio Fretello..." He kept muttering his brother's name into the larger man's shirt. Ludwig did the only thing he could do at the moment, hold his little lover in his arms in some attempt to comfort him.

"He's dead..."

"They're dead." The green-eyed man chuckled, washing the latin blood from his hands, "I almost feel bad." He let out a sight, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked tired, and psychotic from the blood splatter on his cheek. He soon washed off the remaining blood before pulling out his wallet. He needed a reminder of why he was doing this before it shook his faith.

He pulled the picture out, and stared at the eyes that contrasted his so much.

"I hope your happy, I'm doing this for you." He grinned, then began to chuckle, and then began to laugh. He laughed for what seemed an eternity, then began to cry. The crying seemed to last longer.

"What am I doing? Talking to a picture? He's dead..."

The funeral was today, a week after the couple's death. Ludwig looked down at the two caskets, side by side. Feliciano said that's what they would of wanted, to be buried together and to have a funeral together, as they had shared a life together and died together. Ludwig had to hold Feliciano after that, as he was doing now. The little Italian, as Switzerland had said, 'lost a brother and a friend' and all he gained was land. Italy now had the burden of his entire country, not just the northern part.

Francis and Gilbert weren't much better off. They had lost their best friend, their third amigo, the third musketeer... now it was just the 'two musketeers'. This was the second friend they had lost in the last year, and it was tearing them up inside. It was painfully obvious on their faces.

Everyone else was sad, but nothing compared to those three. All of Europe attended. Belgium was crying her eyes out from the loss of her two closest friends, Kiku was tearing up, and Arthur was patting him on the back in some attempt to comfort him. Every Latin American country attended, and they all looked sadly upon their former brother.

"Il loro fratello. Mio fratello. Whose next?" He heard Italy mutter as they left the caskets to sit down as the ceremony began in the large, Italian church. Feliciano cried the entire time.

"I'm so pissed! They cared more about those damn hispanics dying then they did you!" He practically shouted at the picture hung up. The green-eyed man punched the wall, glaring at it.

"I'll just have to kill someone no one cares about. That'll make me feel better!" He threw off the jacket of his funeral clothes, as he was finding his knife to sharpen.

"I'll just have to kill someone else with a filthy language." He began to chuckle again. The psychotic laughter soon filling the house.


	3. Chapter 2

Francis sank back into the fabric of his sofa, taking a long drink from his glass. The red wine didn't seem strong enough, he was on his third glass and not even buzzed. He silently hoped that Gilbert would bring something stronger later.

_'Oh god poor Toni... I know he was an idiot, but he didn't deserve to die... not like that.' _He remembered seeing the pictures. _'It was so gruesome... and with his cute little Italian too.' _Francis could feel his stomach churn at the thought. He soon settled it with another glass of wine.

_**Knock! Knock!**_ He heard the soft knocks on the door. Francis recognized it, he was the only one who bothered to knock anymore. Francis stood up, composing himself as he walked to the door. He opened after a few more knocks.

"Hello_ mon ami_." Francis greeted as he opened the fine wooden barrier, and was met with bright green eyes, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, it is the day after your best friend's funeral." He began, "It would be obvious a few people would come here to console you." Those green eyes were examining him now, it was a bit unnerving.

"Ah _oui_, As I did when-" He was sent a narrow glare. "Well you know. You wouldn't let me though, you wouldn't talk to anyone for several weeks." Francis chuckled, or at least tried to. He had lost two people he cared about within the last few months... it was painful. Francis then realized they were still standing in the doorway.

"Please, Come in." Francis stepped out of the way so his friend could walk in.

"Cheer up, It could be worse." Francis thought about this, then nodded.

"You're right that could have been me!" They shared a laugh, leaving Francis with a small smile. _'Maybe I can get through this...' _Francis led him into the living room where he had previously been drinking wine.

"You can take a seat _mon ami_, or maybe have a glass of wine?"

"No, I'm fine. You settle. Umm, where is your restroom again? It was a rather long drive." Francis sat down, pouring two glasses of wine, neither for his friend.

"Down the hall on the left." Francis directed his attention to the two glasses of wine in front of him, downing one of them. '_why did he need to know where the restroom was? He's been here a quite a few times._' Francis began reminiscing about the time he brought the other nation home, letting out a chuckle. That's when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like-" Francis was cut off by being pulled back by his hair.

"Say hello to him for me..." Then his throat was slit. Intense pain shooting through him as his blood drained from the cut.

"_Pourquoi, mon ami, pourquoi?_" Francis mumbled his last words. The last thing he heard was the maniacal giggles of his friend, the last thing he saw were those crying green eyes...

The killer grinned, wiping the stray tears from his face. He carved a star onto the man's chin, remembering how his lover had admired the man's stubble. He began hummingas he strolled into the kitchen. He had forgotten his own knife at home, and had taken one from Francis' kitchen. He calmly put the knife back in its slot, blood staining the wood. Pity too, it was such a nice holder.

He continued humming as he washed his hands, blood dripping draining down the sink with the water. He smiled, seeing his hands were no longer covered in blood. Then, he walked out, taking a peek at his handiwork on the way out.

Ludwig found himself at _another _murder scene. Feliciano was crying in the corner, hugging Gilbert, who was recovering from shock. Gilbert had found his friends mangled corpse earlier that evening. Gilbert had been coming over to have drinks, to honor their friends life and drown their sorrows, but he was only met with more grief. Gilbert was shaking in a corner when they'd arrived. Vash was currently putting the murder weapon in a bag.

"Why don't you check for fingerprints big brother." Lily asked, taking crime scene photos. Ludwig felt uncomfortable having a young girl work on a murder scene, but she was surprisingly unfazed. She was also skilled at photographing the dead, and mangled...

"Because Lilli, us nations have no fingerprints." Ludwig looked at his own hands, at the smooth skin of his fingertips. Ludwig could have sworn he had some long ago, but maybe they had faded away...

"Germany," Vash began, "We have a serial killer here. There is a star on Francis' Chin." Ludwig nodded knowingly. He had seen the star within his stubble, and had to wonder if he had been alive when it happened.

"L-Ludwig..." Feliciano was crying, holding Gilbert who was crying uncontrollably into the smaller man's chest. "Y-you're going to catch them, right?" Ludwig leaned down and put a hand on Feliciano's shoulder.

"I swear I will, Italy." Then he pulled both his lover and brother into his arms.

"Honey I'm home~!" The killer practically sang as he entered his bedroom, the picture sitting there on his desk. The killer began to laugh.

"Remember dear? You used to sing that every time you pranced through that door." The picture did not respond... he was only met with those contrasting eyes. The killer smiled, walking into the washroom to rid himself of the rest or that dirty french blood.

"Love you too~!"

Francis' funeral was exceptionally smaller than Romano and Spain's. It was held in a quaint church. Most of Europe attended, along with a few of his ex-colonies such as Seychelles. She was crying her eyes out with Monaco, both attempting to comfort each-other. Germany was holding Italy, whom was sobbing. Luckily his tears weren't as furious as at Romano's funeral.

Prussia looked at his fallen friend, now truly alone. He couldn't even feel himself crying. Well, at least not until he felt a pat on the back...

"Don't worry, love. Things will begin to look up. Germany will catch this bloody bastard and then we can all get on with our lives." Arthur said, his voice smooth and truly comforted the Prussian a bit. Red eyes looked up to meet emerald, and he saw sadness. Prussia had nearly forgotten that England had suffered almost as much as him.

"Yeah... Let's hope West can catch this bastard before they kill anyone else." Prussia's voice was hoarse. "Going to funerals has been... un-awesome." England gave him a sad smile and walked off to give some else comfort.

"_Schlaf gut mein freund..._"

Green eyes peered through the doorway, looking upon a mop of blonde hair. She was crying her eyes out, none the wiser of the intruder in her home. Her loud shrieks of misery were grinding at the killers ears.

"Oh Spain!" She cried, "and little Romano!" She continued crying. The killer had almost felt bad about killing the woman. _'At least I'll be putting her out of her misery...'_

Those green eyes creeped up behind her, his footsteps being drowned out by her sobs. She had no idea he was there until she felt her hair being pulled back, and the knife cutting deeply into her throat. She didn't even have time to scream before she was a lifeless form on the ground.

The killer laughed, seeing she had fallen on her face. He moved back her blonde hair and carved a star into the back of her neck. He left her there, and began humming again as he walked out of that home in Belgium. He felt no remorse, with a voice as horrid as that, he had done the world a favor.


	4. Chapter 3

Green eyes, seemed to smirk as their owner walked through the door. He laughed, throwing off the jacket he had worn to the funeral. The funeral of Belgium, another filled with the countries of Europe, himself included.

"Love, I spoke to Germany today. You know, the one whose been studying my work? He and the other's haven't a clue yet to who it is!" The green eyed nation laughed, and the picture did not respond.

"The best part was, no one cared! Italy was crying, Netherlands and Luxembourg seemed upset, but that was it. The girls were crying as always, but their women... what do you expect?" The killer began laughing again, and the picture remained silent.

"I'm going to go sharpen my knives now. Don't miss me too much!" The picture remained silent. The killer could feel himself choke up.

"You know... This is all your fault."

"Roderich, don't worry! Nothing's going to happen to us!" The Hungarian woman said, attempting to comfort her spouse. Green eyes peeked in through the open window.

"I don't care Elizabeta. It's for our safety! We're leaving for Germany tomorrow! I have an extra piano there anyway." The Austrian man left in a huff, leaving Elizabeta in the room alone.

The killer stepped through the window as the green-eyed woman sighed.

THUMP.

She heard footsteps behind her, and swung around, but it was too late. The green eyed killer stabbed her in the stomach, making the woman double over onto the ground. She looked into those eyes, green meeting green, and looked at the smirk.

"_F-Fattyú_... Why? What have I ever done to you?" She was coughing, blood dripping from her lips. The killer nearly laughed.

"You were happy." He slit the woman's throat, blood pouring out. Her eyes lost life within a minute. He soon carved a star into what was showing of her chest, finishing just before he heard steps up the stairs.

"Elizabeta, you've been quiet. Are you okay?" The killer stood next to the door, hiding himself from sight as the Austrian walked in on the gruesome sight of his beloved covered in blood, dead on the floor. The Austrian screamed.

"E-Elizabeta!" The killer closed the door and quickly slit the man's throat before he could react. The man was dead within seconds, and a star was soon carved into the palm of his hand.

The killer laughed, going into the nearby bathroom to wash his hands and knife. Then he left, humming a tune under his breath.

"Damn it, not again." Ludwig looked over, yet another crime scene. It was becoming painfully obvious this was a serial killer. He looked over the information given to him on the sheet, and rewriting it in his notepad.

1. Elizabeta was killed before Roderich, but only a few minutes before.

2. The reoccurring star was placed on Roderich's hand and Elizabeta's on her upper chest. Both had slit throats, but Elizabeta also had a stab wound an inch from her navel.

3. The cause of death is the same as the rest, blood-loss from a slit throat.

4. It is suspected that the killer used the same knife as in the Carriedo-Vargas killings, and had gotten in through the window

5. No evidence was found to the killer's identity.

"Gott... Why do you hate me?" Ludwig looked over to his sobbing brother, who was once again crying into Feliciano. Feliciano had silent tears going down his face, in a vain attempt to stay strong for Gilbert.

"We're going to catch this sick bastard!" Vash nearly screamed. Lilli only nodded, continuing to take pictures with innocent green eyes. Vash's voice sounded mournful, as if he had lost a lover instead of a rival or old friend.

"I hope so Bruder!" Lilli nodded. Vash stomped out of the room, swearing that he would shoot who ever had done this, as soon as he found out who it was. Lilli didn't react, she just kept taking pictures of the mangled corpses.

"Liz... Roddy... Damn it! Why!"

"Toni... Gott, I miss hanging out with you and Francis here. Remember we would hang out and talk about who we were trying screw?" Gilbert whispered to himself as he waded through the sea of tomato plants his friend had grown. The Nation's human neighbors were now taking care of it, though they still sagged. The plants seemed to miss their owner. Gilbert laughed to himself, "Look at me! Talking to myself."

_"¿No son hermosas?"_ A small, high voice said. Gilbert whipped around for his crimson eyes to meet bright green ones. Green eyes that belonged to a small girl, with dark brown, almost black, hair. She looked no more than three, and was covered in dirt. Her eyes were as bright as the smile she gave him.

_"Los tomates. Son hermosos."_ Gilbert quickly translated what she said into English in his head. 'The tomatoes. They're beautiful.'

"Hey kid, who are you? Did you lose your mom or something?" She tilted her head in confusion. He let out a sigh and repeated in Spanish. She answered in Spanish, but his head luckily translated for him. All those years hanging out with Toni did some good...

_"I don't have a mother, and I don't know my name. I just woke up here in this heavenly field of tomatoes, with a loud noises coming from the house over there."_ As she said this, she pointed Antonio's house. The house that he and Romano were found in.

This girl was Spain.

The killer was sharpening his blade, readying it for another kill or two if need be. His green eyes flickered with dark intent as he saw the light glint off the blade.

"99 bottles of Arsenic on the wall... 99 bottles of Arsenic... Take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of Arsenic on the wall..." He sang to himself, as he put down the knife, and looked at the small bottle. It contained 27 grams of liquid Arsenic, enough to kill 200 men, though it would only have two victims. He smiled, picking up the bottle, and began to sing again.

"98 bottles of Arsenic on the wall, 98 bottles of arsenic... Take one down. Pass it around. 97 bottles of Arsenic on the wall."


	5. Chapter 4

Prussia sped, as fast as he dared, down the road going north. The only thing going through his mind was how much West is going to freak when he sees the little bundle of joy currently bouncing in the backseat, rattling off about tomatoes.

"_Do you know what my name is_?" She asked in Spanish. Gil was about to answer "Antonio", but caught himself.

"I don't know kid, Pick one out!" Gilbert glared at the windshield as it began to rain. The droplets were slow, but steady, against the hood of the car as it sped by.

"How about, 'Adonia'?" She spoke in rough English. She must pick things up rather quickly. Gilbert turned his windshield wipers on before answering.

"That an awesome na-OH SHIT, BIRD!" Gilbert swerved the car off the side of the road,thankfully not hitting anything. That bird had flown straight at him. Gil stepped out of the car into the rain to yell at said bird.

"FUCK YOU BIRD! GILBIRD COULD KICK YOUR ASS IF HE WAS OKAY WITH GETTING HIS FEATHERS WET!" He screamed in the bird, who was now perched upon a branch. It just chirped happily.

"_Ne criez pas à Pierre! Vous sale porc!" _Gil swung his head back to find a young boy standing there on the road. He had dark blonde hair, purpleish-pink eyes, and an angry look on his face. It immediately softened when he saw Prussia, and turned into a flirtatious smirk; this was strange to see on a boy that appeared to be only 9.

"Hello, pardon me, but please don't yell at my friend. He is only a bird." He spoke in poor English, his accent strong and obviously French. The young boy ran to Prussia and took his hand. He put his lips upon it in a gentle kiss.

"Damn... Your a horn dog even as a kid..." Gil mumbled under his breath as the young France let go.

"I'm sorry, but may I have your name? Though, I can't return the favor. I have none." Gilbert opened the door to the back seat, to show little Adonia in the back.

"It's Gil, and you need to get in the car." The French boy nodded and slipped in the back seat.

"Hola! Me IIamo es Adonia!¿Y tu?"

"Mon nom est... Francis." They drove back onto the road, a smile on Gilbert's face. The Bad Touch Trio was reunited.

_**Knock! Knock!**_ The light knocking echoed through out the small home, and Kiku quickly dashed to it.

"Good morning Kiku. I wanted to see how you were holding up." The owner of green eyes smiled sadly at the Japanese man, who let him in without hesitation.

"_Ohayō_, but I should be asking you that." Kiku began leading the green eyed man into a sitting room where tea was being served. "After the accident, you haven't been quite the same. Though, it's understandable; it must be hard..."

"Yes... It's been quite difficult." An awkward silence sat in the air for a minute or two. Kiku soon broke it.

"W-would you like some tea? Greece-san is in the _toire_. He will be back soon." As if on cue Heracles stepped out of the restroom and sat beside Kiku, soon taking a sip of the tea. A few quiet moments passed before the green eyed man seemed to perk up.

"I think I saw something go into the kitchen. Maybe one of your cats... could you go check on it? It could be hungry and get into something." Japan nodded and stood up to check, Greece following close behind.

The Killer made quick work of pouring a fair share of arsenic into each of the cups of tea. He stared at the beautiful liquid in the half empty bottle, admiring it for a moment, before putting it away as the two walked back into the room.

"It was only Pochi." Japan said, smiling a bit. The green eyed man smiled again, just as sadly as before.

"Let's toast," He began, "to all the friends we've lost within the past year. May they rest in peace." Kiku nodded, as did Greece, and all three raised their small cups of tea. All three drank deeply from their glasses.

Green eyes examined the room, finding the couple dead on the floor. Strange, he'd only left a few hours ago to return the scene. He smiled, running his finger along the blade of his beloved weapon. He inscribed a star within Kiku's wrist, watching the cold, stagnate blood slowly drip out. He took Greece's hand and did the same, and set his next to Kiku's.

"I'm sorry Kiku..." The killer let two steady streams of tears fall as he smiled, "but you reminded me of him... you were his friend." and the killer walked out of the small Japanese home. The next morning he went on a flight to his home, where a picture awaited him...

Ludwig could feel his stomach churn as he walked onto the scene. He couldn't tell if this was better or worse, but there was definitely less blood. Kiku and Heracles' hands were intertwined, almost no blood coming from the small wounds of the star. Though the reason for that is when China found the bodies a cat was licking their wrists clean of the red liquid. The thought alone was enough to make someone gag.

He didn't bring Italy this time, he'd lost too many people. Lily wasn't as composed as she had been before. Her eyes were tearing up, and she shook a little bit as she snapped the pictures. Switzerland was tearing up as well, he and Liechtenstein were good friends of Japan.

"...Who would do this Bruder?" Lily's voice was quiet, and shaking as much her hands.

"I don't know Lily..." He sighed, writing the facts in his books as Germany was doing. Everything was the same except to leading factors:

He used poison instead of a knife, and there was no forced entry.

This meant one thing, Japan had trusted his killer. It had been someone he knew.

The two shared a small funeral. China was leaning on Russia crying into the large man's chest, Italy cried silent tears, and Germany joined England at staring mournfully at their fallen friend. Turkey cried next to Greece's corpse, mumbling that he was an idiot and trying not to show his tears. It may have been the darkest funeral yet.

"'Kay guys, I have something very important to say." Prussia spoke up. The surrounding nations all looked toward him, there eyes asking what could possibly be more important than discussing this killer on the loose.

"What is it _bruder_?" The irritation clear in his voice, Prussia just smirked and opened his mouth to reply.

"HOLA!" Adonia jumped up from behind Prussia, a bright Spanish smile on her face, "Mi llamo ESPANA!" Italy immediately burst into a sobbing fit.

"_Bruder, ist dies eine Art von Witz!_" Gilbert winced, and opened his mouth once again to speak, but was interupted yet again.

"Bonjour, Je suis la France!" Francis popped out, winking at a gaping England. Italy's sobs furthered.

"_Bruder..._"

"I can explain!" Gilbert said, finally getting a word in, "I found her in the tomato field near Antonio's house and found him while driving back home. He was in the middle of a random road with FRANCIS' BIRD!"

"That doesn't mean it's them Gilbert!" Germany was absolutely livid. Italy settled his sobbing enough to look at the two children and say something.

"It's them Ludwig... I know it is." He paused and looked down, "but we're not going to find Romano..." After that the place became a mad house, China and Turkey were setting up trips to go look for Japan and Greece. Netherlands was planning to look for Belgium, and Prussia was excited to look for Hungary and Austria.

"Wait..." Italy stopped sobbing, gaining everyone's attention. There were two more people who they hadn't thought of. Two nations that had died, and have been dead for a while... before this serial killer came about.

"Someone needs to go to-"


	6. Chapter 5

It had almost become a routine; find a way into your victims house, forced or not, and keep it quick and quiet. This is why green eyes were currently staring at their own reflection in a beautiful hand gun, waiting in the closet of his current victim's house. A smirk darted across his lips as he heard footsteps enter the room.

"You know Lithuania, I'll stay here if you need protection. It seems dangerous leaving you here all alone, _da_?" Russia's voice was laced with more malice than concern. Lithuania let out a nervous chuckle.

"I'll be fine... and Poland will be staying with me! You can go home now Ivan..." The Killer could imagine the nervous smile he was giving the Russian. The Russian's footsteps began to fade.

"Be safe, Da? I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow."

"S-Sure thing Ivan." The door closed behind the Russian, and Lithuania was left alone. But he didn't even think of moving before the hum of Ivan's car faded away as well. The Killer smirked before stepping out of the closet while Toris had his back turned. The green eyed man approached the brunet, his footsteps silent, and pressed the end of the barrel to the crook of Lithuania's neck. The boy's breath hitched at the cold metal against his skin.

"I-I'm going to die... aren't I?" Lithuania voice was fearful yet steady, as this had been inevitable. The killer chuckled.

"Sorry love." And with that he pulled the trigger, blood splattering onto the killer's pale cheek. A pink tongue darted out to lick a drop off.

"It tastes sweet... no wonder Ivan liked you." He chuckled, and the door opened. He swung around, his green eyes meeting with a shocked pair.

"O-oh my god, like, what did you do to Liet!" Was all Poland could say before a bullet pierced his skull, and his brains splattered against the walls and floor, decorating them a nice shade of red. The Killer smiled and slid his gun with the silencer into its holster, and pulled out his deliciously sharp knife. He soon carved perfect stars into each of their wrists, one on the left and the other on the right. As the killer was leaving he noticed something on the fridge, it was a shopping list. He laughed as something cliche came to mind and he pulled out a pen to write something, something that had played a part in one of his lover's favorite movies, and put a star next to it.

"Have fun with that Germany." He laughed and exited Lithuania's home.

"He's just teasing us now." Germany glared at the words "_redruM_" written on the Lithuania's shopping list. It was written neatly, with a star drawn next to it. Germany looked toward the one who had found them, Russia, who had an angry look on his face. He claimed to have come back to the home because he had left a bottle of Vodka, and he found the two in Toris' study. The bodies were still warm when he had got there.

"Why do you think they're doing this big _bruder_?" Liechtenstein said shakily. This was more blood than she'd ever seen in her life, and Ludwig wasn't surprised that she was a bit shocked. But still she continued taking the crime scene photos.

"I don't know Lily, maybe they're just sick." Vash replied, picking up a bullet fragment. "They were shot with a powerful hand gun, but I'm going to have to do more research to know what kind though." Germany nodded and continued looking over the scene.

"It looks like they broke in this time, through the window." Germany sighed. All this death was exhausting, for both him and Italy. He did not look forward to telling him that another one of his friends had died. Germany glanced back at the bodies and mumbled.

"Redrum, huh?"

The Killer stepped into his apartment, laughing to himself as he checked off his shopping list.

"Rum, check. Milk, check. Bread, check. Soda..." He trailed off as he looked at the sleeping boy on his couch. The boy was fast asleep, obviously from jet lag, and a note was placed on the small table next to him, addressed to the killer and signed by his parents.

_ This killer has been slowly working his way north, and we're scared to death of something happening to Peter. We have decided he's safer with you. Sorry for the inconvenience!_

The Killer almost laughed at the irony, but he didn't. He was scared to go near the boy, he looked and acted just like...

Tears began to prick at his eyes. If the boy opened his eyes and showed off those sapphires... _His_ sapphires, he wouldn't be able to take it. The Killer rolled up his leaves, knowing what he had to do.

Green eyes looked down at the knife in his hands. He walked up to the sleeping boy, who was in such a deep sleep. He didn't even feel what had happened next. The Killer slowly slid the knife across the boy's neck, and watched as the blood drained out. He quickly carved a small star on the boy's cheek.

"I'm sorry..." The killer kissed the boy's forehead and walked away. He unrolled his sleeves, took his bags, and left. Only to come back a few hours later, and call Ludwig.

"Oh god... Peter." Arthur sobbed. Gilbert patted him on the back comfortingly. Germany looked over the scene. There was no forced entry, no clever note, just a dead boy with a small star on his cheek. They had contacted Finland, who was devastated. Sealand was gone, another that was never going to be reborn. They had found all the victims' "reincarnations", along with a few more.

"He was just a boy... Why?" Little did Prussia or Ludwig know that those were not tear of sadness-they were tears of guilt.

Arthur carefully unpacked, putting his things away in their proper place before gingerly lifting a framed half photo from his bag and setting it on the bedside table. He smiled tiredly in response to Alfred's million-watt grin before opening his mouth to speak.

"Love, we have to stay at a hotel for a few days because they're still investigating the house."

"..."

"Peter's dead, sorry. I had to, he just looked too much like you." Arthur looked down at the ripped picture, the other half was with Alfred. In Alfred's pocket, 6 feet under ground, was a picture of Arthur. Alfred had died in a car wreck along with his brother shortly before all this killing started. He had kissed Arthur goodbye that day...

"It's amazing how your life can be destroyed in a second, isn't it?" Arthur said to the picture. It was one of the few things he had left. He had pictures, memories, and Alfred's jacket. Arthur slept with it every night, and still he never got any sleep- it just wasn't the same.

"It's funny," Arthur had said once to himself, "they say lack of sleep can make you crazy..." Arthur laughed to himself, gripping the photo.

"Night, Iggy! I love you!" He remembered Alfred's voice telling him every night before that crash ended his life.

"Night, love..." Then Arthur passed out, sleeping for the first night in very many...


End file.
